


Late night call

by Salambo06



Series: Tumblr Collection [19]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 01:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7247086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salambo06/pseuds/Salambo06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on an Anonymous ask:</p><p>"so Sherlock had been sent to France for a case, unwillingly, by Mycroft but John couldn't go with. When Sherlock can't sleep at night without him, he calls him. Phone sex endures..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late night call

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Heather](http://snogbox1.tumblr.com/) for her job as a beta !  
> [My Tumblr](http://johnlockfulfillmenbt.tumblr.com/)

“Sherlock, it’s two in the morning.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes, putting John on speaker and setting the phone next to him on the bed. He settles more comfortably, “John, I know you weren’t sleeping.”

“Maybe not,” John sighs, and Sherlock can also hear the soft sound of John putting his cup of tea on the bedside table. “But still, it’s late and we should both be sleeping right now.”

“Boring,” Sherlock replies, “Let’s have sex instead!”

John bursts into loud laughter and Sherlock can’t help but smile too. They had begun sleeping together just four months ago, and given that John is his first lover, Sherlock had wanted to try absolutely everything. Of course John isn’t complaining, not at all, but Sherlock knows he’s also worried, always making sure Sherlock is comfortable with everything they do, and Sherlock finds himself falling in love a bit more with every day that passes.

“We’re not even in the same country, Sherlock,” John says, and Sherlock can hear the smile in his voice.

“Really John,” Sherlock says, “I’m sure you can find a solution.”

“Phone sex?”

Sherlock closes his eyes, feeling the first tremor of arousal, “Obviously.”

John laughs again, and Sherlock is certain he can also hear his body sliding down the bed. Lying down. Good. 

“You’re a bloody menace, Sherlock Holmes,” John says.

Sherlock glances at the phone, wishing he could be staring into John’s eyes right now, “But you love me.”

“I do,” John replies, his voice soft, “I do.”

A familiar warmth spreads throughout Sherlock’s chest, “Good, now, touch yourself!”

John’s laugh echoes in Sherlock’s hotel room again, filling the empty space and it’s almost as if he was right here with him. “Sherlock, that’s not how phone sex works.” He’s still smiling, and Sherlock is certain it’s the smile he always gets when he says something apparently funny enough for John to kiss him tenderly for several minutes. “You need to go slowly, to let the pleasure build up,” John continues.

“Slowly?”

“Yes,” John replies, “Where are you right now?”

Sherlock is about to reply a sharp _it’s three a.m John, where would I be?_ But he stops, realising this is John agreeing to have sex with him despite the thousands of kilometers separating them, and he licks his lips before answering, “In my hotel room, lying in bed.”

“Perfect. Push the covers away,” John says and Sherlock obeys quickly, “now, what are you wearing?”

“Pants,” Sherlock breathes out, fingers fumbling with the sheets before asking, “what about you?”

“Nothing,” John answers and Sherlock’s eyes flutter close, “I got used to sleeping naked with you but our bed is very cold without you in it.”

Sherlock bites down on his lower lip, picturing John’s naked body on their bed perfectly. He had spent hours discovering every inch of John’s skin with his fingers and tongue, and even now, Sherlock is certain a lifetime will not be enough to truly learn all the caresses that can make John moan and shiver and come apart in his arms. 

“But I’m counting on you to warm me up,” John continues, the quiet sound of his breathing filling Sherlock’s head, “Now I want you to touch yourself, Sherlock, slowly, everywhere but your cock. Understood?”

Sherlock nods before remembering John can’t see him, and he gasps a quiet yes before letting his hand slide down his neck. He brushes his fingers over his collarbones, the touch soft and slow, enjoying the small shivers running through him. He exhales loudly enough for John to hear, and John’s voice fills the room again, “Good, so very good, Sherlock.” 

Sherlock gasps quietly, fingers now running down his chest and over his nipples, “John.”

“Yes, like this, take your time,” John says, “Rub your nipples, two fingers, feel them harden.” 

Sherlock’s tongue darts out to lick at his lips again, desperately wanting to be kissing John. He shuts his eyes tighter and imagines John watching him from the chair next to the door, telling him what to do, praising him, wanting him. 

“Are they hard, Sherlock?”

“Yes,” he breathes out, “Yes.”

“I’m touching mine too,” John says, “Imagining your fingers, your mouth kissing down my neck, your body already so hot against mine.” He moans, “Christ, Sherlock.”

“Hmm,” Sherlock slides his fingers lower, keeping his touch light over his belly and ribs. “John, my pants, I-”

“Not yet,” John says, “You’ll remove them later, keep touching yourself.”

Sherlock lets out a shaky breath and moves his fingers as low as he can over his thighs. 

“Oh god, I miss you so much Sherlock,” John says, his breathing already ragged.

“ _John_ ,” Sherlock moans, the need to touch him, to feel him all over him making Sherlock’s body ache, “What are you- are you?”

“I’m already getting hard,” John says, his voice rough, “Just listening to you, imagining you, splayed on this bed, desperate for more, god, I’m sure you look absolutely gorgeous.”

“I want to take you in my mouth,” Sherlock says, and John inhales sharply.

“Fuck, Sherlock, I want that too.” Sherlock hears him shift and he knows John is spreading his legs wider, “I love your mouth, so wet, so warm around my cock. I love to watch my cock disappear inside your mouth, love to cup your face and feel how hard I am, how deep you take me.”

“Yes,” Sherlock pants, one hand back on his nipple while the other is now clenched on his pants, only waiting for John to say the word to remove them. “I like- I love when you fuck my mouth, when you lose control,” Sherlock dares to reply, just the memory of the first time he gave John a blowjob bringing his cock from slightly hard to fully erect. 

“Oh, god, Sherlock,” John groans, “Your voice, your fucking voice.”

“John, I need-”

Sherlock is certain he can hear John’s breathing change again as he rasps out, “Yes, take them off.”

Sherlock wastes no time, pushing his pants down his legs before throwing them on the floor. He looks down at himself, his cock hard and red against his stomach, precome leaking from the head already, and he lets his hands caress his inner thighs. 

“Don’t touch yourself yet,” John says, and Sherlock lets out a frustrated sigh, “Soon, love, soon. But first, I want you to imagine my hands on your hips, pushing you higher, my mouth on your thighs, on your balls, so very close.”

“Oh, god, John,” Sherlock moans, feeling himself grow even harder, “John.”

“My tongue tasting you, my lips sucking, kissing my way down until I can lick and kiss and nip at your arsehole. Oh, fuck-”

Sherlock’s back arches on the bed, memories of John rimming him, exactly four days and twelve hours after their first time, Sherlock on all fours on their bed, holding on to the pillow as John’s tongue fucked him slowly, coming back to him. His finger brushes his balls and he lets out a loud moan, “John, I can’t, I need to-”

“Yes, do it,” John gasps, his breath catching as he takes himself in hand too, and Sherlock’s entire body shivers as he finally closes his hand around his erection. “I’m already so hard for you, love,” John moans, “So hard.”

“I want you here,” Sherlock says, tugging on his cock slowly, from base to tip, thumbs sliding over his slit, “I want you inside me.”

“Oh yes,” John growls, “Yes! The moment you come back, Sherlock, the moment you pass the door, I’m pushing you against the nearest wall and fucking you right there.”

Sherlock increases his pace, hands moving faster now, and he has to bite down on his lip as he listens to the wet sound of John’s hand around his own cock over the phone. He can hear every moan, every sharp breath, and the need to come becomes more and more urgent. 

“Do you have lube, love?” John asks, “does the hotel have some?”

Sherlock shakes his head, “I don’t know, I can’t move, I can’t-”

“It’s alright, love, it’s alright,” John says, panting, “Suck on your fingers, get them wet for me.”

Sherlock whimpers, bringing the hand until now resting on his thigh to his mouth and sucking on two of his fingers eagerly. He moans around them, fantasising about John’s fingers in his mouth instead, tongue circling them, getting them wet enough for what comes next. 

“Are they wet now, love?” John asks, “Tell me.”

“Yes,” Sherlock moans, pulling them out before bringing them back to his thigh, “Yes, yes, can I push them inside me now?”

“Fuck,” John curses, the wet sounds stopping and Sherlock holds his breath, “Fuck, I almost came, that’s what you do to me, Sherlock.”

“John,” he says again, “Can I?”

“Yes, yes, fuck, yes.”

Sherlock pushes one finger first, slowly, as deep as he can before pulling it out again. He repeats the movement for several minutes, knowing John is listening to his every moan and gasp. He spreads his legs wider, planting both feet on the bed as he cants his hips, his finger sliding deeper inside him and he moans loudly as it brushes his prostate.

“Oh, fuck, Sherlock, like that,” John gasps, “add another finger,” Sherlock moans again, “yes, good, so good, are you close, now, love? Fingering yourself, touching yourself, imagining I’m the one fucking you?”

“Yes, John, yes,” Sherlock whimpers, fucking himself on his two fingers and thrill of pleasure running down his spine each time he hits his prostate. “I’m going to come, I’m so close.”

His cock grows harder in his hand, and Sherlock starts to thrust into his fist and then back on his fingers. His head is spinning, his lungs burning, and he’s getting drunk off the sounds coming from John over the phone. He can hear the creek on the mattress, John probably fucking his own hand too, and Sherlock buries his finger as deep as he can inside him, back arched on the bed, head thrown back and comes all over his stomach and chest. 

“John, _John_!”

“Oh fuck, Sherlock, fuck!”

“John,” Sherlock breathes out, weak and still shaking, “John, come for me, please.”

Sherlock listens breathlessly as John’s hand speeds up on his erection, his moans getting louder and louder until he’s crying out Sherlock’s name, “Sherlock, oh god, Sherlock!” Sherlock listens as he continues to stroke himself through his orgasm until he’s hissing in over sensitivity, “Oh, Christ, Sherlock,” he finally breathes out.

Sherlock smiles lazily, both hands threading inside his hair as he gets lost in the afterglow. He closes his eyes, picturing John’s warm body against him, the way he always kisses Sherlock’s jaw and neck after they both come, and exhales slowly. 

“Sherlock?” John calls, his voice a whisper in the room.

“Hmm?”

“I love you,” John says, another smile in his voice.

Sherlock grabs his phone, putting it close to his ear and listening closely to John’s breathing, “I love you.”

“Three days, right?” John asks.

“Yes,” Sherlock replies, “three days.”

They both remain silent for a long moment, Sherlock feeling himself fall asleep already. He pulls the covers over him, humming and John laughs again, softly, “Good night, love.”

“Night’ John.”

Sherlock falls asleep with his phone tucked between his ear and the pillow.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comment are very appreciated


End file.
